


Nargles and Wrack-Spurts

by cougarlips



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Matchmaker Ginny, POV First Person, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 15:15:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3815188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cougarlips/pseuds/cougarlips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Seeing her eyes light up at the mention of her small family made hearing about nargles and wrack-spurts worth it.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nargles and Wrack-Spurts

It was the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about things that interested her that roped me in. Her big, blue eyes would brighten, would shine with excitement, as she spoke of her father and something he’d told her. Family was most important to her, but not like family was important to, say, Draco Malfoy. She valued her father because he was all she had left. She valued her relationship with him and the things he told her because, after all, a father should be the one a daughter trusts most.

It was the way her hair always looked, too   –   always messy and slightly knotted, like she only finger combed through the waves after waking up. It was big, but not like Hermione’s hair, which was bushy. Luna’s hair was big with curls and waves and it was soft, a natural shade of blonde that no one could’ve gotten artificially if they’d tried.

It was her skin, as well. Light freckles decorated the center of her face, nearly invisible unless you were inches away from her. Her skin was lightly tanned from the time she spent with me walking outside and around the greenhouses. It was silky, so soft that even my calloused fingers felt like they were gliding on water.

It seemed like my feelings for her came overnight, though now I know I felt for her long before I consciously realized it. Her individuality and free-spirit automatically drew people towards her, even if these people didn’t stay with her. I drifted towards her through Dumbledore’s Army, but her magnetic personality kept me coming closer. Out of practice, I would see her wandering through the hallways almost in a daze, oblivious to the whispers and giggles that followed her every step. I remember feeling vaguely sorry for the blonde, but when I saw her face and realized that she didn’t notice it – or she did and simply didn’t bother with them – I felt confused.

Didn’t she realize that she was the joke of her year?

One day I saw Ginny run up to her and link arms with her and the two laughed. Her’s was soft and bubbly, and you _saw_ it more than you _heard_ it. The two turned around and when Ginny saw me, she smiled and waved me over.

“Neville!” she’d said. “What’s up?”

I awkwardly lifted my arms, filled with my textbooks of the day and a plant that Professor Sprout had given me. “I’m headed towards the common room to drop these off,” I told her.

“Where’s your bag?” Luna asked me, in her dreamy voice.

Frowning, I looked down at my books again. “I think someone hexed me – the bottom of the bag ripped.”

Ginny automatically reached over towards me to grab some of my books to carry them for me. Luna, on the other hand, nodded lazily. “That’s happened to me before.”

I looked at the two girls with a frown on my face. Then, suddenly, my books and plant were removed from my arms, and I saw Ginny walking away with a grin on her face. “I’ll take these to the common room for you, Neville!” she called back to me, as though I had any choice.

That, of course, left me with the absent blonde. As soon as Ginny left, the whispers and giggles sounded once again. In my peripheral vision, I saw fingers pointing, eyes watching. I glanced over at the blonde, idly wondering what was going on in her mind. At the same time she looked at me, but by no means did she try to hide that she was staring at me.

“Hello,” she said suddenly. “Your name is Neville, right?”

I nodded, somewhat sullenly, still bothered by the murmurs and whispers following us. As though reading my mind, she said, “I ignore them.” Her blue eyes met mine and she offered me a sweet smile. “If they’re so busy talking about others to make them feel bad, they’re too busy to be mindful of themselves.”

“You’re saying they’re just insecure?” I asked her.

Her smile faded into a serene look. “You can’t degrade someone else without degrading yourself. So yes, I think they’re just insecure.”

We turned a corner and walked into the great hall together, and I contemplated that. She turned to look at me one more time before a short wave, and she then walked towards the Ravenclaw table, sat, and began dishing pudding onto a plate. I couldn’t help but notice how she sat alone, but I shook my head minimally and took my own seat at the Gryffindor table.

 

At the next DA meeting, Luna meandered her way towards me, seemingly unconsciously.

“Hello, Neville,” she said airily.

I nodded, not saying anything, as I was concentrating on performing my patronus. Christmas was nearing, and I was staying for the holiday to practice further.

Luna, having been watching me, asked, “What’s your memory?”

My face reddened, and I looked down, again without answering. She, however, went on when she realized she wouldn’t get an answer. “My mum died when I was nine. Once, when she and Dad and I were all together, we went out to a muggle carnival.”

When I looked over at the blonde and saw a wave of sadness encompass her features, I asked tentatively: “Do you miss her?”

Her own blue eyes widened slightly, and looking back at me she said, “Every day.”

Her airy tone had returned, but was slightly shaky. I looked at my wand, then I said quietly, more to myself than to her, “I miss my mom, too.”

 

From then on, she and I were partners every DA meeting. It was fun, getting to know Luna. Her eccentrics, it seemed, stemmed from her father and how he viewed things. I didn’t question her – seeing her eyes light up at the mention of her small family made hearing about nargles and wrack-spurts worth it. Never once did I hear her complain about anything, either.

Outside of the meetings, she and I began walking around the castle grounds together. Even on rainy days, she and I would meet and talk. Sometimes, we wouldn’t even say anything. We would just enjoy each other’s company. Still, not every day did we do this. It was more of a weekly occurrence, something we did when neither of us was swamped with homework.

One Friday evening, as I was walking through the corridors toward the Gryffindor common room, I was so lost in my thoughts of homework and studying and practicing that I didn’t notice the blonde walking fairly close beside me, and it wasn’t until I heard a quiet sniffling that I noticed her.

Seeing Luna with tears in her eyes was a shock to me. I think part of me was under the impression that she had been the type of person who was incapable of crying. Strange and wacky as she was, she was one of the strongest people I’d met. To see even one tear fall from her eyes was enough to make me want to hurt whoever had hurt her.

That was the first time I recognized my feelings towards her.

 

My sixth year, her fifth, she and I had even less time to see each other than before. Witnessing the loss of Sirius and then the summer holiday had separated as enough – as if we needed her studying for her OWLs and my studying for NEWTs thrown into the mix.

But still, somehow we managed. Every Saturday evening, the two of us met to have a walk through the corridors. Luna brought with her stories of her break, laughing about something her father had told her, and I brought with me stories of _my_ break, chuckling slightly at some of the more embarrassing moments.

It almost seemed as though Luna had grown right in front of me. Her hair, now a slightly paler golden blonde from the sunshine of summer, reached her hips in loose ringlets that seemed shinier than the year previously, neater somehow. Her wide, blue eyes still looked as though she were permanently surprised, but there was warmth in them that I hadn’t noticed before.

It wasn’t until the end of the year until I’d realized my feelings for her on the dark grounds after the first battle of Hogwarts, and Harry sat beside Professor Dumbledore’s body. Luna, like many students and teachers alike, had tears openly shining down her cheeks. The moonlight surrounded her in an unearthly glow, and that was, in my opinion, the most heartbreaking scene that night. I remember, almost but not quite subconsciously, grabbing her hand with my own and holding it tightly. I also remember her throwing herself into my chest, and I could feel her trembling frame in my arms.

She made no sounds as she cried, nor did any other student that night.

 

When Harry, Ron, and Hermione had gone on the run, and when Luna had been held captive at Malfoy Manor, I kept in touch with Aberforth. I’m positive I drove him crazy with my questions everyday: “Where’s the trio?” “Are there any news on the Lovegoods’?” “Has Luna been found yet?”

I always was the last to fall asleep at night, even as more and more students showed up in an attempt to save themselves from the Carrows. As more appeared, I made sure that they were well tended to before I fell asleep, especially the young ones who sought reassurance that the school wasn’t always like that. It wasn’t until Ariana had returned with another small blonde with her that I felt the knot in my stomach lessening.

After a few weeks, Luna began staying up with me. If it had been up to me, I wouldn’t have had her help at all, but Luna was persistent and I’d never been able to win an argument with her. When she was well enough that her bruises had healed and her skin was less gray, she began tending to the ones who needed minor healing.

During the Final Battle, chaos was the only constant theme. Bodies were lying everywhere, and no matter where I looked, I kept seeing a small blonde lying on the ground amidst the rest of the bodies. Everywhere I looked, I was scared that Luna had fallen victim. When You-Know-Who and Harry were in the great hall dueling, I finally saw my small blonde, covered in blood and her hair matted against her head.

When he fell, I ran to her and picked her up. Through all the cheering and clapping and crying and mourning, I looked her in the eyes, and she in mine, and we both began laughing before dissolving into each other, our lips meeting with a soft anticipation.

 

One month later, Luna and I stood at St. Mungo’s. Her hand in mine, we walked up to the fourth floor. Luna, who at this point knew the story of my parents, told me she wanted to meet them. I agreed, albeit reluctantly, only because I couldn’t have told her “no” if my life had depended on it.

When we turned the corner to see my mother’s wispy gray hair and thinning face, Luna smiled.

“Hello, Mrs. Longbottom,” she said in a soft voice.

**Author's Note:**

> you couldn't pry this ship from my cold dead hands. they're probably my 3rd overall favorite, just behind the tied lily/james and remus/tonks. immediately following luna/neville is harry/ginny, but that's irrelevant. i wrote this a few years ago and i went and tidied it up because i'm transferring my works from ff.net onto here.


End file.
